


Drowning

by 1drabbithole



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Bathtubs, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Haircuts, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Shower Sex, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-22
Updated: 2012-10-22
Packaged: 2017-11-16 19:29:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/543037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1drabbithole/pseuds/1drabbithole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn helps Liam through his break-up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drowning

**Author's Note:**

> I was having a lot of Ziam feels and then [this picture](http://down-the-1d-rabbit-hole.tumblr.com/post/33033221491) came across my dash. Many thanks to my comods for beta reading and to [beaumontinvestigations](http://beaumontinvestigations.tumblr.com) for this wonderful graphic (even though she's not even in this fandom). 
> 
> Based on fictionalized portrayals of real people. No harm intended.

 

 

No one really noticed at first.  Zayn could press his knee up against Liam’s in the stairwell, or stare a bit too long whilst he sang.  Everyone noticed Harry and Louis instead.  That was ok by Zayn, since he wasn’t convinced he wanted all of the attention anyway.    
  
By the time anyone _did_ notice, Liam had met Danielle and all of the speculation could be written off with a laugh.  
  
Perhaps no one noticed that Zayn’s laugh didn’t go to his eyes.  
  
****  
  
Zayn didn’t know if he should knock so he stood there, rather stupidly, outside of Liam’s front door.  He stroked his thumb over the screen of his phone, waking it and putting it to sleep again, over and over.  Probably he should call Perrie, say hi... finally tell her that he couldn’t ignore this.     
  
He was really trying not to make this about _him_ , about what _he_ wanted.  This had to be about what _Liam_ needed.  And maybe Liam just wanted to be alone. He should have called first. Fuck.

Zayn ran a fingertip over the wood of the door.  Liam had taken Zayn here once to visit before he’d even purchased this place. Liam had been so happy then, and Zayn had almost been happy for him too.   _Almost_ , because this flat was for a life that Zayn wasn't really a part of. It was hard to be truly happy when a dream was ending. More than anything, he’d wanted to lock those feelings away until they just snuffed out, dead from lack of attention.  Liam was supposed to have a house full of little ones in a year or two, and he was supposed to always have that smile on his face that he’d had that day.  Even if the smile wasn’t for Zayn.    
  
The door opened.  There Liam stood, and there wasn’t a trace of a smile.  
  
“Zayn,” Liam said, surprised.  For a moment, they were balanced precariously on a cliff. Zayn's mouth slipped open, but he really didn't have a clue what to say. Then Liam's eyes were welling and he fell into Zayn’s embrace with a sob.  He clawed at Zayn's t-shirt, dragging him to the sofa and falling on top of him. His tears left wet blotches across Zayn's chest, and his fingers left sore prints in their wake. All Zayn knew to do was stroke his hands slowly down Liam's back and hum a nonsense lullaby.  He had a nearly overwhelming urge to kiss his cheeks, but their usual little playful gesture of affection seemed completely wrong with Liam’s breath coming out ragged and sore.    
  
A while later, Liam’s heaving breaths calmed and he peeled his face off of Zayn’s t-shirt.  They managed to laugh at how red one cheek had gotten.  Zayn had to sit on his hand so he wouldn’t reach out.  
  
“I was going to go for a run,” Liam said, voice still rough.  “Earlier, I mean.  When I opened the door.”  
  
“In the middle of the night?”  
  
Liam shrugged.  

“How about a cup of tea instead?”  
  
“Yeah,” Liam nodded, wiping across his eyes with the back of his hand.  “Thanks, mate.”  
  
****  
  
Zayn woke on the far side of Liam’s bed late the next morning.  He’d tried to go for the sofa, but Liam had looked so bloody _fragile_.  He hadn’t been able to say no to those sad, red rimmed eyes looking at him over the empty teacup.  Maybe he never would be able to. Maybe he'd never want to say no.  
  
Or maybe it was _himself_ he needed to say no to.  
  
Liam had dragged Zayn close when they’d laid down, his cheeks wet, his body restless.  Zayn could almost hear Liam's thoughts, but the name screaming through them wasn't Zayn's. Right now, Zayn reckoned he was just a warm body. It could have been Louis here, or Niall, or Harry; it probably wouldn't have mattered. Liam just needed someone to keep him from coming apart, to set him right enough to get through the next day.  
  
When Liam had finally fallen asleep, his tears completely used up, Zayn turned away and let his own chest tighten.  
  
In the very early morning, Liam rolled next to Zayn again, pressing his forehead between Zayn’s shoulder blades.  He’d been sniffling.  His hand crept to Zayn's hip and his fingers dug in like he was drowning in his feelings and Zayn was a life buoy. Zayn was barely above water on this as it was, gasping for air above the whirlpool that was Liam's pain and his own conflicted feelings. Hoping that his hand wasn't clammy, he fumbled through a few strokes to Liam's fingers, easing them to relax. After that, sleep was almost impossible.  The sun was up before Zayn drifted off again.  
  
Now, the late morning sun was streaming into the room. Zayn was sore. Perhaps his muscles had been tense while he slept. He ran a hand over his jaw to make his teeth stop pressing together. Two days' worth of stubble scratched at his palm. He was so fucking _knackered_ , but not for any good kind of reason.  He rolled over, steeling himself to find Liam’s tear-stained face looking back at him, but the bed was empty.  
  
Liam came into the room, a towel about his waist and rubbing another over his hair.  Zayn was grateful that Liam's eyes were glinting -- surprisingly mischievously -- because it pulled Zayn's look up from drooling over other parts of Liam's body.  A sneaky smile was turning up one corner of Liam's mouth.  No tears.  
  
“What has you so...?” Zayn asked cautiously, gesturing with his hand to indicate the expression on Liam's face.  Zayn sat up in bed. ( _Liam’s_ bed that he’d bought with _Danielle_.  Zayn wouldn’t let himself forget that part.  It was for his own good and for Liam’s.)    
  
The almost normal expression on Liam’s face was too good to be true.  It had to be.  Liam feeling chipper already was not possible.  This was a mania swinging too far in the right direction, wrapping round to something bad again.  
  
“Will you do me a favor?”  
  
“Depends.”  
  
“It’s easy.”  
  
Zayn narrowed his eyes.  “Alright.  Maybe, then.”  He pulled his knees up close to his chest and hugged them, perhaps readying himself for the worst.  
  
Liam wrapped the towel from his hair around his shoulders.  He beamed at Zayn and held up a clippers.  “I want you to cut my hair.”  
  
“Liam, be serious.”  
  
“I’m serious.”  His expression was turning neutral, then dark.  “I am serious, mate.  Zayn, please.”  
  
Zayn ran his hand through his own hair in unconscious sympathy for what little was already there of Liam’s curls.  Lou had already cut Liam’s hair so short.  It’d made him look less like a boy... not that he’d ever been a boy.  He was always the old soul, calm and thoughtful whilst the rest of them went about pulling nonstop nonsense.  When the rest of them went crazy, Liam always kept control even after Louis’ influence had finally crept in.  He had been Zayn’s lifeline so many times.  Perhaps this was Liam asking Zayn to step up and have a turn.    
  
Zayn nodded.  He climbed out of the bed slowly, giving Liam every chance to change his mind about turning himself into some kind of monk.  A shaved head was going to be impossible to explain away as anything other than related to the break up.  Liam looked resolved though.    
  
Zayn followed him into the other room, looking from the clippers Liam had placed in his palm to the muscled lines of Liam’s bare back.  Liam’s lower lip pushed out a bit as he set his jaw and squared his shoulders in one of the dining room chairs.  With a silent sigh, Zayn rounded the chair and met Liam’s eyes.  There was no hint that he wanted to back down.  
  
“Alright then?”  
  
“Alright,” Liam replied.  
  
Zayn put a hand on Liam’s shoulder for a long moment.  He squeezed.  “Alright,” Zayn echoed, stepping behind Liam’s chair.    
  
He moved the guard to the longest position and turned on the clippers.  A long, deep breath, and then he took a quick stripe of hair from the side of Liam’s head.  His fingers came out, brushing the bits of hair from the curve of Liam’s ear.  He couldn’t help the churning of his stomach.  Liam was motionless, head high, looking straight ahead at the bare, metal face of the refrigerator. Zayn took another stripe, and another, until the front of his t-shirt was covered in short brown fuzz. If their agents didn't kill them for this, Lou surely would.  
  
Liam turned and looked up at Zayn.  He ran his palm across his short hair.  A few stray pieces had gotten caught up in tear streaks on his cheeks.  Zayn hadn't even known Liam was crying. His fingers shot out again, wiping at Liam's cheeks.  In that moment, with his eyes round and sad, Liam looked so young.  
  
“Thanks,” Liam whispered.    
  
Zayn gave a crooked smile.  “You’ll be beating them off with a stick.”  
  
Liam shrugged.  “What do you think, though?”  
  
Zayn purposefully kept his hands to himself.  “Sharp as always. Good thing you enlisted such a masterful barber.”  
  
Liam stood, grabbing the towel about his waist at the last moment to keep it from falling.  Zayn couldn’t help noticing the hair that trailed down from Liam's navel.  Then Liam was in Zayn’s space, hugging him tightly, and whispering “thank you” over and over.  He kissed Zayn’s cheek too close to his lips.    
  
Zayn gasped and pushed away.  It was reflex more than anything.  Maybe it was even Zayn telling himself no, that this was a horrible fucking idea.  Not when falling like this meant risking his best mate, the band, everything.  This kind of tease would break his heart if he let it.    
  
The look of hurt confusion on Liam’s face was a palpable blow.  Zayn’s heart dropped through the floor with the realization that he’d just pushed Liam away.  Now, of all times, he had just been a complete bastard and had shoved Liam away.  He’d made this about _him_ , hadn’t he?  Zayn pulled Liam back close into another hug, but this time he kept his face turned away in case his own eyes were a bit too shiny.  
  
****  
  
Liam had been latched to Zayn’s side for weeks.  Madness was only one more stray hand, one more long look away. All of the touching was going to kill him.  (A bloke should only be wanking so many times a day, and of those zero should be spent fantasizing about his straight best mate.)  But at least Liam seemed better. He still cried sometimes when it was only Zayn there, and he still asked with his massively sad, massively persuasive brown eyes for Zayn to stay over.  
  
Liam held up _Hot Tub Time Machine_ and _The Princess Bride_. “C'mon, mate. Your turn to pick.”  
  
Zayn would have liked to have said, “I pick _Let's Go Get Pints_ , because I need to get your ridiculously flat abs off of my mind for five minutes.” Instead he smiled at Liam's excited eyebrow waggle and not subtle jiggle of _The Princess Bride_.  
  
“Ew,” Zayn whined. “But that's about kissing.”  
  
Liam rolled his eyes at Zayn's poor impression of the kid in the movie. Moments later he was tucking himself in next to Zayn on the sofa. Zayn had his arm resting across the back, maybe subconsciously waiting for Liam to slide in close. Silently he reminded himself again that he needed to say no to _himself_. He was only making this harder.  
  
The telly flickered into the dark room as the movie played across its screen. Liam was sitting so close that every one of his breaths made him press into Zayn's side a little deeper. Every one of his laughs vibrated through Zayn.  
  
“I love this part,” Liam said, sitting forward.  
  
Zayn felt his lips curling into half a smile as he watched Liam bluster along with Vizzini about iocane powder.  
  
“Zayn! I know you know this, so don't even pretend you don’t.” Liam turned back and fisted his hand into the front of Zayn's shirt, pulling him to the edge of the sofa.  
  
Zayn played at being unenthusiastic until Liam reached up and puppeted Zayn's mouth open and closed along with the dialog. They collapsed in a pile of laughter moments later.  
  
Liam sighed happily against Zayn's stomach. Zayn couldn't help but run his hand over Liam's buzzed hair for the thousandth time since he’d cut it. It was another thing that he shouldn't have been allowing himself, but Liam never flinched away when Zayn was the one stroking him. He tried not to read anything into that.  
  
Liam's fingers stroked along Zayn's palm, pulling it away from his head and bringing it to his lips. The soft touch of that kiss rocketed down to Zayn's cock.  
  
“Thanks for everything,” Liam whispered.  
  
Zayn cleared his throat. “Yeah. That's what friends do, right?”  
  
Liam laced his fingers with Zayn’s and within moments was asleep. Zayn watched Princess Buttercup and Westley kiss, and he had no fucking clue what to do.  
  
****  
  
Back when Liam bought his flat, he gave Zayn a key, saying something like, “Just in case.”  Zayn often fiddled with it on his keychain, taking it with him everywhere, even when they went abroad.  It had stayed shiny from the constant rubbing.  (Yes, Zayn was fully aware of the ridiculous symbolism in rubbing Liam’s key whilst it was in his pocket.  It had become something of a comfort, though, and he knew he was unlikely to stop.  The worst was the time that Perrie asked him what he was up to.)    
  
With Liam drifting in the wake of his break-up, Zayn used it often.  He’d been stopping by daily to bring over groceries or a movie.  Once or twice he’d even let Liam convince him to go to the gym downstairs.  Mostly Zayn just wanted to make sure Liam had gotten out of bed at a reasonable hour...  That is, on the days that Liam hadn’t made Zayn sleep over.    
  
Zayn heard the sobs right away tonight.  He was late getting here after he’d stayed at the studio to re-record one of his solos.  The wracking sound of Liam’s sadness made Zayn go cold with guilt.  He should have called when he knew he’d be late.  He probably could have rescheduled it if he’d asked.    
  
He nearly ran to the bath, softly knocking on the door as his heart thundered in his ears.    
  
“Liam?  Mate, is it alright if I come in?”  
  
“Yeah, I--”  Then Liam’s voice cracked and another sob rang out.    
  
Liam was sitting up in the tub, hugging his knees.  He looked over to Zayn with tears streaming down his cheeks, dripping over the side of his nose.  Zayn tried not to look at Liam's naked body, half covered by the foam of the soapy water.  Now wasn’t the time, it just wasn’t.  Maybe it’d never be.  
  
Liam reached out and latched a hand about Zayn's wrist.  He looked up at Zayn with such utter desperation.  “I need--”  He gasped a breath.    
  
Liam fumbled at the button of Zayn’s jeans.  He pushed the hem of Zayn’s shirt up with a sob.  Zayn let him do it, perhaps against his better judgement.  He was shocked frozen that Liam was touching him, or at least like this, like Liam needed more than just a warm body again.  Liam kept urging him closer.  His hands fumbled at Zayn’s waistband, his touch searing hot against his belly.    
  
Zayn had no idea how he’d manage to keep his body under control if Liam pulled him into the bathtub like it seemed he wanted.  He forced himself to keep breathing, to act normal and calm even though fantasies of Liam shoving his pants to his knees flashed through his mind.  He stared at the wall ahead of him unsure if he should push away.  
  
A kiss, wet with tears, landed on Zayn’s stomach.  Zayn looked down quickly, just as Liam croaked, "Please."  
  
Zayn let himself scratch his fingernails over Liam’s scalp, one hand after another.  Liam threw his arms around Zayn’s waist, over his loosened jeans, making Zayn’s whole front side damp from tears and bathwater.  Zayn tried to not look at the curve of Liam’s bare arse and failed miserably.    
  
“Please,” Liam said again.  “I just need...”  
  
“Shh,” Zayn soothed.  “Ok.”  
  
He shed his clothes, keeping his pants on, and slid into the tub behind Liam.  He willed his cock to obey, to stay down, as Liam nestled back against his chest. Liam’s sobs came in another wave when their bodies met, shaking him to his core.  Zayn hugged him tightly and wished Liam could look up at him with that easy smile that he usually wore.  Liam kissed Zayn's forearm where it wrapped around him. Over and over, Liam’s pale pink lips moved over Zayn’s tattooed skin.  He was a broken angel.  Zayn’s chest tightened with emotion as Liam writhed in the water.  
  
The waves came less frequently and with decreasing intensity.  Exhausted, Liam drifted to sleep in Zayn’s arms again.  Zayn had lost count how many times he’d held Liam through his tears over the last weeks.  He’d learned that the stronger he wrapped him up, the faster it would subside, so that was what he did now, even as Liam slept.    
  
Liam stirred, still half-asleep and dazed.  He turned over as Zayn relaxed his grip.  His eyes were still closed, and a smile touched the corners of his mouth.  He crawled up Zayn’s body and pressed a kiss to his lips.  
  
As many times as Zayn thought of this moment, it never had played out with Liam sleep-kissing him through a memory of someone else.  He wanted this so badly, but not _this_.    
  
"I can't," Zayn rasped.    
  
Liam’s eyes snapped open.  "Wha-- um. I mean... oh," Liam stuttered. "I thought--"  
  
Liam stared for a long moment and then nodded to some unspoken question. He let his weight settle onto Zayn, his naked form wrapping around him.  
  
Zayn could barely draw a breath.  
  
****  
  
Pints wait for no man. At least that was what Niall claimed when he shoved Zayn in his car and drove them both to the pub.  
  
“But I should check on Liam,” Zayn protested.  
  
Niall leveled a look at him that said, “Are you serious right now.”  
  
Niall had walked in on the tail end of Zayn’s long overdue talk with Perrie less than an hour ago.  She’d said she’d pretty much figured it out already, the way that Zayn’s eyes sparkled when he looked at Liam.  That part had made Zayn blush, because he hated being so obvious and because he shouldn’t have led her on for so long, not when he’d known who he wanted with every fibre of his being.  She’d blotted at her eyes a bit and kissed him on the cheek.  Niall and Perrie shared a look on her way out the door, and that’s when Zayn found himself shoved into Niall’s car.  Five minutes into their drive, Louis texted that he was taking Liam tonight and he would hear no protests.  Fuck if Zayn knew how Niall had managed that bit of magic.    
  
At the pub, Zayn shouldn't have tried to keep up with Niall. He knew from two years of hangovers it was a bad idea. Still, here he was, doing just that. Niall seemed to be encouraging it, but at least he wasn't pushing Zayn to talk about why they were here. Zayn didn't like to think about the rest of them _knowing_.  
  
Girls slid in and out of their booth. Autographs were signed. Zayn's smile came back to the sound of Niall's laughter. Another pint and one more.  
  
“See, mate? Just needed to get out for a night,” Niall shouted over the music.  
  
Zayn nodded, head loose on his neck, and let a girl slide onto his lap. She whispered her name in his ear and then dragged her reddened lips across his cheek to his mouth. He most definitely did not pay attention to the concerned look that Niall leveled at him.  The sad, buzzing emptiness inside him was person-sized, and maybe she’d fit for tonight.    
  
He drunkenly let himself get lost in the slick warmth of her touch right up until she laced her fingers through his.  The memory of Liam's fingers doing the same seared through him. He pushed the girl away, horrified. Sick hollowness pooled in his stomach with the thought that he'd betrayed Liam somehow, betrayed Perrie too. Before Niall had a chance to react, Zayn was staggering to the curb, hailing a cab.  
  
He let himself into Liam's flat with that blindingly shiny key after a blurred ride in the taxi. Liam wasn't there. Still out with Louis, he reckoned. Zayn hoped wherever they were, Liam was laughing.  Maybe Louis’d be clowning about or pulling a face.  It didn’t much matter, as long as Liam was just smiling.    
  
That mental picture drove Zayn across the flat.  The sofa leapt out and crashed into him, or it seemed that way. He imagined he could still taste that girl on his lips as he stumbled toward the bath. A trail of clothes followed him through the sitting room, then the hallway.  
  
Zayn rested his forehead on the wall next to the shower as the water ran. Spinning, suffocating feelings drove him under the water while it was still too cold. A yelp -- or was it a sob? -- fell from him. The water washed over his bare skin, raising goose flesh in stripes across his back, down his legs.  
  
He could still feel that girl's lips against his. He rubbed at them, as if incriminating traces of her lipstick might still be there. With eyes closed, he could almost pretend the memory was of Liam's full mouth. Maybe on another movie night or if that bath could happen again. Maybe Liam would straddle Zayn's lap and take his face between his hands and just lean in.  
  
Zayn's hand found his cock. The smell of Liam's shampoo in this place, his soap... Zayn was no saint. He couldn't be surrounded by everything _LIAM_ and not stroke himself. Not with that Liam-sized space within himself and a few pints to grease the way.  With his lips still tingling, he could imagine it was Liam's tongue parting his lips and dipping inside.  
  
His breath caught. Forehead against the tile, he moved his fist fast. His thumb dragged over the head of his cock and his knees weakened for a moment. This could be Liam's hand. Or this could be Zayn's hand on Liam's cock, stroking him whilst they snogged.  His cheek and lip found the shower wall... fuck, he wanted that so much, just to make Liam feel good. Zayn's groan echoed off the tile. He had no idea of how loud or how quiet it might be, and he couldn't be arsed to care. Not with this movie playing behind his eyelids. Not with Liam taking hold of Zayn's hips and grinding them together, a smile just for Zayn across his lips.  
  
The swish of the shower curtain startled him nearly to soberness. He had nowhere to hide his incriminating erection except behind his crossed hands. That left no cover for his flushed face. He knew his eyes were wide when they met Liam's.  
  
Liam... soft, sweet, talented, loving, heartbroken Liam. Best mate Liam. Straight up the line Liam.  
  
“Oh,” Zayn said dazedly as he finally processed what he was seeing.  
  
 _NAKED_ Liam.  
  
“Oh,” Zayn said again. “S—sorry, I was just...” It was fairly obvious what he'd just been doing.  
  
"Don't say no. Please," Liam said softly.    
  
Liam stepped into the shower and Zayn's head swirled. A whimper was Zayn's only response. There was no way that this was what it seemed. It couldn't be.  
  
Zayn's eyes flicked down. Water misted about Liam, gathering into rivulets that spilled down across his body. Fuck, he was so fit. His cock was half hard, foreskin just pulling tight across the head. Zayn snapped his eyes up again. It felt like the water would flash into steam from his blushing cheeks. This couldn't be real.  
  
"I swear this isn't a rebound thing. I wouldn't risk it... us, for that. I wouldn't." Liam stepped close. His lips dragged along Zayn's cheekbone.    
  
Every last thought of the girl at the pub was replaced with this new thing. Liam's lips were at the corner of his mouth.  
  
"Be sure," Zayn begged.  
  
Liam pressed Zayn against the cool tile. His hardness pushed against the back of Zayn's hands.  
  
“Fuck,” Zayn breathed.  
  
“I'm sure.”  
  
“Please be sure,” Zayn said again.  
  
Liam smiled against Zayn's skin. He could feel it. And there was no way to miss the squeeze at the corner's of Liam's eyes.  
  
“I figured you weren't taking the hints I was dropping, so I'd best take a more direct tack.”  
  
Liam's hand slipped between their bodies. He took one of Zayn's hands and wrapped their fingers together. Liam sucked his lower lip for a moment, looking at Zayn through his eyelashes, like he was contemplating whether to eat Zayn for a midnight snack.    
  
Zayn’s cock throbbed against the palm of his hand.  He groaned and surged forward. He pressed his lips to Liam's, shutting his eyes hard and hoping that this was real.  Liam matched his enthusiasm. He pulled their joined hands from between them and pressed them against the shower wall. His other hand cradled the back of Zayn's head.  
  
And then the tip of Liam's tongue met Zayn's. Everything in Zayn’s world narrowed down to focus on that intimate brush of flesh against flesh.  He couldn’t say no, he wouldn’t ever.  Fuck, if Liam would just keep doing exactly this...  
  
Zayn pulled his hand away from covering his painfully hard cock and grabbed at Liam's waist. It slipped against Liam’s wet skin as Zayn tried to pull him closer.  If they could just get closer, if Zayn could just press them harder together, then this wouldn’t just be a half-pissed dream.    
  
Without Zayn’s hands interfering, their dicks slid together.  Skin-on-skin, with the warm shower easing the way, they moved along one another.  Zayn drank in Liam's moan like a gasp of air into burning, starved lungs. Liam's hips thrust forward and the line of his cock slid up toward Zayn's navel. The crown of Zayn's cock caught Liam's, and then it was Liam swallowing Zayn's gasp of pleasure.  
  
“Fuck,” Zayn said again. “Tell me again. I need to hear you say you're sure.” Zayn's head was swimming with the sensation of the cool tile, the steam, the length of Liam's body against his, and above all else the left turn his emotions had taken about 60 seconds ago. The alcohol from earlier was the least of it.  
  
Liam was panting. He rested his forehead against Zayn's and tried to still his hips. Zayn could feel Liam's muscles clench as he forced himself to slow. Their cocks were still pressed hard together.  
  
“I'm so very sure,” Liam said. He placed a soft kiss on Zayn's mouth. “You kept me from drowning.”  
  
“I don't need you to thank me like this,” Zayn said.  
  
Liam pulled back. Water was sheeting down across his cheeks, catching in his lashes and eyebrows. He took Zayn's hand and rubbed it over his short hair, nuzzling into Zayn’s hand for a moment.  Then he cradled his own cheek with Zayn’s hand..  
  
“I'm not sad anymore. That's because of you.  You, my best mate, not anyone else.  You and your sodding awful attempts to make me breakfast.  And your surprisingly great skills with a hair clipper.  And the fact that you smell so bloody good all the time, and now my duvet does as well.  And when I get to watch you sing... I learn so much every time.  You make me better, make me more _me_.  I’m really sure about this, Zayn.  This is me saying thanks and loads more.”  
  
Zayn had become steadily more embarrassed as Liam carried on listing his good qualities.  “Are you quite finished?”  The silly question that the five of them shared fell out of Zayn’s mouth before he could stop it.    
  
“I am most definitely not finished,” Liam said.  He captured Zayn’s mouth with his.  This wasn’t the kiss of a man who was uncertain.  Zayn could feel it to his bones when Liam brushed his lips across Zayn’s again, making love to his mouth with his soft touches.    
  
Liam swept Zayn’s sopping fringe off his forehead.  His thumb traced a path down to Zayn’s ear, down the side of Zayn’s neck, along his shoulder.  Then Liam’s mouth followed the same trail.  He sucked Zayn’s earlobe into his mouth, nipped at the tense line of Zayn’s neck, and left open mouthed kisses across his tattoo.  He left behind warmth in places Zayn didn’t know could turn him on so much.    
  
Liam’s fingers tickled down over Zayn’s ribs, but it was not a laugh that rose from deep in Zayn’s chest.  Boldly, since this was so much more than just a snog between mates, Liam grasped his own cock, stroking slowly upward and catching the crown of Zayn's as he did so. Zayn suddenly felt on the verge of crying and orgasm at once.  He thrust his hips forward, driving his tongue into Liam’s mouth simultaneously.    
  
Under the warm water, Zayn moved his hand to join Liam's on his cock. Their hands tangled for a moment, Zayn’s fingers slipping between Liam’s as he got his first touch.  So many months of fantasizing couldn’t hold a candle to finally knowing how they fit together.  Liam's hips stuttered.  He let Zayn take over, moving his hand to close about the base of Zayn's dick.  Both of them could do nothing more than gasp raggedly.  
  
"I've always wanted--" Liam's words cut off when Zayn's fist closed harder, pinky finger looping behind his balls for a moment.  
  
It was Liam's response to Zayn's touch that sent Zayn to the edge.  He was _smiling_.  Heat and pressure and Liam and _YES_.  When Zayn came, the look in Liam’s eyes was awe and lust and maybe, just maybe, more.


End file.
